


Moments of Compromise

by sixtywattgloom



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-21
Updated: 2012-08-21
Packaged: 2017-11-12 15:05:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/492526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtywattgloom/pseuds/sixtywattgloom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And struggling all his life to be anything but the villain doesn't make him the hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moments of Compromise

Some things, Remus knows, are meant to be.   
  
He sees destiny in the curve of James's smile the first time he meets Lily Evans, and there is destiny in his quiet, seventh year promise--the one he's been making since before he knew what it meant--that he will never give up. That he will prove himself before this is over.  _One date_ , he vows.

  
But he says it this time like a whisper, and there is something solemn about the weight of each word, the way it falls between them.  
  
Remus loves James the way he loves all three of his best friends--hopelessly, absolutely, and sometimes altogether  _stupidly_ \--but it's the first time Remus knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that James could make her happy. The first time he's ever really deserved her.  
  
It doesn't catch Remus especially by surprise. They've all gotten older, and the outside world is pressing in upon them, waging a war no one has yet named. James isn't fourteen anymore, but he's still in love with Lily.  
  
Remus supposes it will be something like a fairy tale.  
  
(He knows his place in fairy tales; he knows his place is in the forest, flashes of sharp white teeth and the promise of blood. And struggling all his life to be anything but the villain doesn't make him the hero.)  
  
*  
  
Lily doesn't respond pleasantly to it, at first; despite Remus's promises, she has altogether less faith in the newly appointed Head Boy. "He's your best mate, Merlin knows why," she tells him. "I'm inclined to call that a bias."  
  
As the years have passed, Lily has become Remus's studying partner for the days he actually wants to _study_ \--and for the nights he doesn't want to do everyone else's studying for them. The first time he tells her James is really worth the chance, now, she laughs so loud she even earns a sharp look from their  _endearing_  librarian. It's loud, and reckless, and there's something about the way it echoes between them that twists behind Remus's ribs.  
  
When he says it again, three weeks later, her only answer is to offer him this little half-shrug and turn the page, like she hasn't properly heard him. Like it doesn't matter enough.

He watches the way her hand curls fondly around the book's spine, and the way her bright green eyes shift away from his, skimming the words but not reading them, and he watches as she keeps her face carefully blank. He knows in that moment that James has already won, and that set in the spaces between each word she can't quite read is destiny.  
  
It's the first time he's ever felt like James winning means him losing, even though he knows there was never anything to lose.   
  
*  
One date is enough, the way he promised it would be.  
  
It feels like Remus wakes up one day and everything has changed, though he knows that's not the case. Sometimes they hold hands in the corridors, and James looks proud and kind of smug--like maybe he is still a little bit fourteen--but mostly  _happy_ , and Lily holds her head high and rolls her eyes when he's an idiot and tangles their fingers.  
  
Nothing has changed, too. Lily still calls him out for being an arse, and a stupid one at that, and James still congratulates himself in front of his three best friends. But he kisses her like he's never meant anything more, and she kisses back because she wants him, and there's destiny in the  _together_ press of their lips.  
  
Remus is proud, and congratulatory, and reminds Prongs more than once that he better not muck this up.  
  
Remus is alone.  
  
*  
  
On the morning of her wedding, Lily shows up in Remus's room and slips under the covers and burrows her face in his chest and mumbles  _I'm nervous_ , just loud enough for him to hear but like she kind of hopes he won't.  
  
He smiles a little, and doesn't think about how warm she is, pressed against his chest, filling the spaces between the sheets. "Oh?" he says, quietly, indulgently, because he expects she'll tell him, at her own pace. Maybe that's why she's here. Maybe he never pushes. (He thinks, fleetingly, that maybe it's why she's not  _here_ , but nearly laughs aloud at the thought--there are a thousand reasons why, and beside the others that one feels altogether without weight.)  
  
"It's so  _stupid_ ," she mumbles against him, only pulling away moments later. "I'm not supposed to be one of these brides, Remus. And cold feet is such a  _cliché._ " She flops back against the bed, covering her face with her hands and breathing out a heavy sigh.

It's rare to see Lily this way, at all uncertain of herself; even in a world where waking feels like drowning, and each breath like a risk, she does not waver. There is terror inside each of them, of course, cold and unrelenting, but her grip is firm and her eyes are bright with conviction.  
  
"You're ready," he says, because he knows she is. Because she knows she is. "You're ready, and you're in love with James, and he's going to do his very best to make you happy, which, early Hogwarts knowledge aside, is actually saying something."  
  
Lily nods, quietly, and comfortable silence settles between them for several minutes. "You should've seen the proposal, Remus," she says, eventually. "It was..."  
  
"Don't worry about me," he answers, "I saw the practice run at least thirty times. After a while, it sort of..."  
  
"Lost its flavor?" she asks with an easy laugh, and there's this  _light_ in her eyes that he's not so self-indulgent to think has anything at all to do with him.  
  
"I'm sure his mirror got the worse end of the deal," he jokes, and she gives him one of those wide, bright smiles that has made him look away for as long as he can remember, like too much exposure would send him spinning out of control.  
  
But he doesn't look away, this time. He keeps looking until he's saying, "You'll be making him the happiest man in the world," which is  _true_ , but there's a tightness in his chest that works its way into his throat, and his voice cracks--just a little. Just enough.  
  
"Remus," she says, and he looks away because it's too full with realization and surprise and  _understanding_. It settles upon his shoulders, heavy and overwhelming.  
  
"You'll make a stunning bride,  _Lily Potter_ ," he says, genuinely.  
  
"I do still have a few more hours of 'Evans' left, thank you very much."  
  
She keeps her voice light, and teasing, because she knows he needs it like that, and in that moment he loves her too much to look anywhere else.  
  
*  
  
Lily is radiant,  _glowing_ \- she'd call it a cliché, but he would say no one in the world has worn bride so well. She says her vows partway between throaty and breathless, and by the time they kiss the both of them are mostly trying not to cry.  
  
For just one day, it is almost like they are each allowed a quiet breath, like they are each given a moment to find their feet. For just one day, the world stops shattering long enough for them to remember how to smile.  
  
And for an instant, Remus lets himself believe that maybe there's another life where it's him standing beside her and pretending he isn't halfway to tears. Maybe there's a world where he whispers  _I love you_ before they fall asleep every night because he is not the monster in the forest, the reason that children must never stray.  
  
Maybe there's a world where he's the hero, the one in armor, clambering down from a white horse with the charming smile of a prince - too wide to be a disguise. No promise of sharp teeth or sharper claws.  
  
But Lily is irrevocably the hero of her own fairy tale, and James Potter is the knight she chose.  
  
(For one night, she doesn't ask  _when_ or  _why_ or  _how long_ , but she lets him dance with her, and she rests her head against his chest, and he breathes in, quiet and unsteady, and he holds her.  
  
"Congratulations," he whispers into her ear, just before she pulls away, and perhaps he has never meant anything more.)


End file.
